#670) Attica (1974)

#670) Attica (1974)

Directed by Cinda Firestone

Class of 2022

Today’s oversimplified history lesson: The Attica prison riots. As always, I’m just here to watch the movie, but I encourage all of you to delve deeper into this pivotal moment in American history.

The Plot: By 1971, the Attica Correctional Facility in Attica, New York was overcrowded and subjecting its prisoners to an inhumane and racially discriminatory environment. Following the death of George Jackson, a prominent Black Panther member serving in San Quentin, the Attica inmates gave a list of demands for better living conditions to State Commissioner of Corrections Russell Oswald and New York Governor Nelson Rockefeller. When these demands – pertaining primarily to improved rehabilitation and education for inmates – were not met or even acknowledged, over 1200 inmates revolted and took control of half of the facility, holding 42 officers and employees hostage. From September 9th through 12th, 1971, negotiations between the inmates and Commissioner Oswald progressed, but ultimately reached a stalemate when authorities would not grant the inmates amnesty over the riot. On the morning of September 13th, armed local and state police took control of the facility, opening fire and killing 39 people: 29 inmates and 10 hostages. The story behind these events, as well as the aftermath, are chronicled by journalist/filmmaker Cinda Williams utilizing footage taken during the riots, as well as new interviews with the inmates who were there.

Why It Matters: The NFR write-up is mostly an abbreviated account of the Attica revolt, but Firestone’s “outstanding investigation of the tragedy” is praised.

But Does It Really?: “Attica” is part of a subset of NFR movies that, while not eye witness accounts of historic events, are a succinct encapsulation and reflection (“Point of Order” and “Freedom Riders” are of this ilk). If you’re like me and only know the barebones summary of what happened at Attica, this film is an eye-opener. Firestone chronicles this story while the wounds are still fresh, treating her subjects with respect and making the whole event seem vividly alive. An appreciative pass for “Attica”; not a landmark in documentary filmmaking, but an effective reportage of a current (and ultimately historic) event.

Everybody Gets One: A lifelong advocate, Cinda Firestone began her career as a journalist for independent paper Liberation News Service. Firestone became interested in film while interviewing director Emile de Antonio (of the aforementioned “Point of Order”) and learning he was looking for an assistant. Shortly after seeing news coverage of the Attica riots, Firestone decided to interview the subjects and make a 15-minute documentary about it. Once she learned of color news footage shot during the takeover, Firestone’s film quickly evolved into a feature-length documentary. And yes, that’s Firestone of tires fame. Her grandfather Harvey Firestone founded the company some 75 years before “Attica” was released, and this film allegedly cost Cinda her inheritance.

Seriously, Oscars?: As best I can tell,  “Attica” did not play an Oscar-qualifying run, but 1974’s Best Documentary winner was another NFR entry about a controversial political event: “Hearts and Minds“.

Other notes

  • My first thought in regards to the extensive prison footage in this movie was “How did they film inside a prison?”. It turns out one of the inmates’ demands was that their activities be recorded, so that the outside world could see how things really happened. You have to appreciate the foresight these inmates had. Roland Barnes and Jay Lamarch were camera operators from a local TV station in Buffalo (about a 45 minute drive from Attica), and their footage has been used in many pieces of media about the riots.
  • The other major component of this film is footage from the McKay Commission; a 10-month investigation into the Attica riots that was ultimately very critical of the state’s handling of the situation. Since almost every non-inmate involved at Attica refused to be interviewed by Firestone for this film (and some were allegedly bullied into not speaking to her), this is the closest we get to hearing their side of the story, albeit the delicately worded version for a court investigation. Most of the interviews from the McKay Commission are intercut with the speakers’ oft-contradictory actions during the actual riot.
  • Easily the most disturbing footage in this movie comes from right before the police assault and -as described on-screen – “Filmed Through Scope of State Troopers Rifle”. Christ almighty. This footage was intended for a police training film, but was subpoenaed by the McKay Commission and rebroadcast on WNET (New York’s PBS affiliate). Firestone has stated that one of the biggest hurdles of making this film was getting WNET to grant permission for her to use the scope footage.
  • Ultimately, my takeaway from this movie is that it made me reflect (for the first time, frankly) about our prison system and the people inside it. Like any good movie, “Attica” made me look at an all-too-often marginalized group of people and see their humanity. These inmates are people forced to reside in an oppressive system that treats them like animals and doesn’t do all it can to truly rehabilitate them for their re-entry into society. There is of course an endless amount of nuance that I don’t have the space to engage with here (prison reform, systemic racism, etc.), but in the end I’m grateful to Cinda Firestone and the opportunity to really think about what it was (and probably still is) like to live within the American prison system.
  • The last line of the movie comes from Frank Smith, Attica inmate and one of the revolt’s leaders, encouraging others to stay alert and active within their society: “Nothing come to a sleeper but a dream.”

Legacy

  • “Attica” premiered at New York City’s First Avenue Screening Room on April 11th 1974, with proceeds from ticket sales going to the Attica Legal Defense Fund. The film played in a few more major cities before more or less disappearing, although in 2007 it was restored by the New York Women in Film & Television’s Film Preservation Fund and received a small re-release.
  • Cinda Firestone made three more documentaries throughout the ’70s before pivoting to theater, writing several children’s musicals. Information on what Firestone is currently up to is scarce, but one article mentions her penning a memoir provocatively titled “Debutante to Attica”.
  • There have been two TV movie adaptations of the Attica riots, both coincidentally earning their directors Emmys: Marvin J. Chomsky’s “Attica”, and John Frankenheimer’s “Against the Wall”.
  • The Attica riots still get referenced every so often (most often around national conversations about prison reform), but when most people think Attica, they think Al Pacino’s famous improvised outburst during “Dog Day Afternoon“.
  • There is another documentary about Attica – also titled “Attica” – released in 2021 to coincide with the event’s 50th anniversary. Like the 1974 film, this 2021 version also utilizes footage from the uprising, as well as present-day interviews from those involved. The film earned its director – fellow NFR filmmaker Stanley Nelson – his first Oscar nomination, which was quickly overshadowed by that category’s presentation by Chris Rock and an unscripted appearance by Will Smith.
  • While there was an improvement in prison conditions in Attica in the immediate aftermath of the riots, many of these new policies were reversed in the ’80s and ’90s following various political “Hard on Crime” campaigns. In an interview in conjunction with the re-release of “Attica” in 2007, Cinda Firestone believed that the present prison conditions were worse than they had been in 1971.

Further Activism: There is so much more information out there about the Attica uprising, and plenty of ways to support its survivors and their families. I recommend checking out the Attica Brothers Foundation, which not only gives financial aid to survivors, but also archives documents and interviews pertaining to the riots.

#669) The Magnificent Ambersons (1942)

#669) The Magnificent Ambersons (1942)

OR “Furious George”

Directed and Written by Orson Welles. Based on the novel by Booth Tarkington.

Class of 1991

The Plot: In a Midwestern town around the turn of the century, the Ambersons are the wealthiest family with the most expensive mansion. In her youth, Isabel Amberson (Dolores Costello) was courted by Eugene Morgan (Joseph Cotten), but she rejected his advances and married Wilbur Minafer (Don Dillaway). Stuck in a loveless marriage, Isabel chose to spoil their son George (Tim Holt!), who grew up to be an arrogant mama’s boy. 20 years later, Eugene returns to town with his daughter Lucy (Anne Baxter), who George takes a liking to, unaware of their parents’ past. Eugene is now a successful automobile manufacturer, and George becomes increasingly agitated by Eugene’s attempts to rekindle things with Isabel. It’s a multi-generational family drama with meditations of how future technology corrupts past innocence, brought to nuanced life by the director of “Citizen Kane“, and completely botched by RKO’s subsequent tampering.

Why It Matters: The NFR write-up calls the film Welles’ “most personal and most impressive”, hailing the “stylish mastery” of the creative team and states that the ensemble includes “some of the best acting…to be found in American movies.”

But Does It Really?: Something had to follow “Citizen Kane”, which I guess makes “The Magnificent Ambersons” the greatest sophomore slump in movie history. Like “Kane”, “Ambersons” is a technically impressive movie that film students and historians love analyzing shot by shot. Unfortunately for Welles, you can only have one breakthrough, and “Ambersons” has enough shared DNA with “Kane” to make comparison unavoidable. Ultimately, I didn’t care for the film: too dense and complex for a first viewing, and not engaging enough to warrant a second. Each individual scene is well-crafted (and beautifully shot), but strung together they don’t make a cohesive movie. Obviously, the studio’s extensive retooling doesn’t help matters at all, which makes “Ambersons” infamously flawed; the ultimate “What If?” of American film. “Ambersons” earns its NFR standing on its reputation, but this one is reserved solely for film buffs enticed into exploring Welles’ filmography.

Shout Outs: An homage that made me laugh out loud; one of the film’s major events is announced on the front page of the Indianapolis Daily Inquirer, the fictional newspaper from “Citizen Kane”. There’s even a column by Jed Leland, Joseph Cotten’s “Kane” counterpart; no doubt a write-up on “dramatic crimiticism”.

Everybody Gets One: Dolores Costello was the best-known of the film’s stars at the time of release, with a film career that spanned over 30 years. Costello was primarily a silent film actor (dubbed “the Goddess of the Silent Screen”), and made the transition to sound film. “Ambersons” was one of her last movies before she retired from show business to focus on her family. Fun Fact: Dolores was married to John Barrymore, and is the grandmother of Drew Barrymore.

Seriously, Oscars?: Despite its troubled production and mixed reception, “Magnificent Ambersons” received four Oscar nominations. The film lost Picture, Supporting Actress, and Cinematography to that year’s juggernaut “Mrs. Miniver” (not to be confused with this movie’s Minifers), and lost Art Direction to another wartime drama: “This Above All”.

Other notes

  • How did all this trouble start for Orson Welles and his “Magnificent Ambersons”? When Welles signed with RKO in 1939, his initial contract was a two-picture deal that gave him total creative freedom, including final cut. After a few false starts with other projects, Welles’ first film – “Citizen Kane” – was released in May 1941, but by then his contract had lapsed, and he had to renegotiate. Exasperated by his work ethic during “Kane” (and the ongoing controversy with William Randolph Hearst), RKO wrote up a new contract that gave Welles significantly less freedom, including the removal of his final cut privileges. Put a pin in this: It will definitely come back later.
  • Right out the gate, you can’t help but make “Kane” comparisons. Both movies begin with a silent title card, which goes straight into the movie. It’s a bad idea to start any movie in a way that makes an audience think, “Hey that’s just like in ‘Citizen Kane’.” You’re just setting yourself up for disappointment.
  • The opening prologue is verbatim the opening passages from the book: a description of the by-gone simplicity of 1870s American life. This sequence does, however, go on for a while. We get it, the past was better! Move on! Also, the whole opening is filmed with a fuzzy haze around the edges, kinda like when I do a bad job of cleaning my glasses.
  • As expected, Welles excels at economic storytelling, especially in these opening scenes, packing in a lot of character detail and world building in a few choice compositions. Perhaps he packs a little too much in; I don’t know if all this upfront exposition makes the film too top-heavy, or if a 1942 audience was just more literate than me and could follow all of this.
  • There’s a lot of great dialogue in this movie, but my favorite is George explaining to Lucy his Uncle Jack’s political status: “The family always likes to have someone in Congress.”
  • I was ready to once again tip my hat to “Kane” cinematographer Gregg Toland and his masterful work filming “Ambersons”, but it turns out he wasn’t this movie’s cinematographer! Toland was unavailable, so Welles selected Stanley Cortez, known for his efficient, economic style, on loan from Universal (while utilizing many of Toland’s assistant camera team). Welles allegedly found Cortez so difficult to communicate with he demoted Cortez to second-unit photographer, letting his assistant Harry Wild preside over the remainder of the shoot.
  • Tim Holt is obviously the Orson Welles stand-in as George, a spoiled rich kid not-unlike Charles Foster Kane. He’s very good in this, with significantly more screen time than his other NFR entries, but he lacks the charisma and star power Welles used in “Kane” to successfully engage an audience with his unappealing character. Welles had played George in a “Campbell Playhouse” radio adaptation a few years earlier, and as good as Tim Holt is, you do wish that Welles had taken on the part himself. Coincidentally, Orson’s real first name was George; Orson was his middle name.
  • Why does George pronounce it “autoMObile”? It’s weird, especially considering that everyone else in the movie says “AUTomobile”. And if he hates cars now, wait until he sees “Two-Lane Blacktop“. 
  • So much of the attention in this film goes to the technical side that I don’t have a lot to say about this cast. Joseph Cotten and Dolores Costello are both good, but also just kinda there. And while Lucy is your standard ingénue part, it’s nice seeing Anne Baxter play something other than Eve Harrington. And she’s a lot better here than she is in “The Ten Commandments“, that’s for sure.
  • So Orson loves big sprawling mansions and innocent scenes of playing in the snow. Got it. Perhaps Welles’ own Rosebud isn’t too far off from Kane’s.
  • Longtime readers know I love me a one-take scene, and this movie has plenty of them. “Ambersons” uses a similar technique used later in “The Heiress“: plant the camera and let the characters move around. It prevents scenes from becoming stagnant while retaining the energy of a single take.
  • Everybody loves Agnes Moorehead as George’s Aunt Fanny, and her character is certainly the most sympathetic of the bunch. Personally, I found her performance too theatrical, but then again most of Ms. Moorehead’s best performances were. Fanny’s famous water heater breakdown scene is especially scenery-chewing, but I’m willing to admit that I wasn’t too invested in the movie by the time that scene came along. Ah well, Moorehead did quite alright without hearing my dramatic crimiticisms. 
  • I went into this viewing knowing of the film’s troubles, most notably the alternate “happy” ending. You can almost pinpoint the exact moment where Welles’ film ends and the studio sanctioned ending begins. It’s not a total 180 from the rest of the movie, but you can sense that things are different. Everyone becomes a little too conveniently optimistic as the film segues into an upbeat conclusion. Somewhat ironically, this new ending is closer to the novel’s ending than Welles’ adaptation.
  • The end credits are unique in that in lieu of on-screen titles they are all narrated by Orson Welles with visuals matching each craft (a camera for cinematography, etc.) This is very similar to how Welles would narrate the credits at the end of his radio programs. Conspicuously absent is any credit for a film score: Bernard Herrmann requested his credit be removed after most of his score was trimmed by the studio. Also, I noticed the “all persons fictitious” disclaimer at the very end. This had been around in movies for a while at this point, but I suspect its prominent inclusion here is a conscious effort by RKO to avoid another Hearst-esque headache.

Legacy

  • When “Magnificent Ambersons” finished filming in January 1942, Welles flew to Brazil to work on his next movie “It’s All True”. By February, editor Robert Wise finished a rough cut and sent it to Brazil for Welles’ feedback (Wise wasn’t able to fly there himself due to wartime travel restrictions). This cut ran roughly 132 minutes, with Welles intending to do some trimming after a pair of sneak previews in March. The audience reception at both previews were extremely mixed (RKO president George Schaefer called it the worst screening he had ever been to) and a nervous RKO, too impatient to wait for Welles to return from Brazil, exercised their contractual right to cut the final film. Over 40 minutes of footage was deleted (up to 50 by some accounts), surviving sequences were trimmed and re-ordered, and multiple scenes were re-shot that April without Welles’ involvement or approval, including the aforementioned new ending. The final film was released in July 1942, and while it did okay with critics and audiences, it failed to recoup its investment, and Welles was unceremoniously fired from RKO.
  • The only good thing to come out of the “Ambersons” re-shoots is that it was the first directorial work for Robert Wise, who would shortly thereafter pivot to directing, with such classics as “West Side Story” and “The Sound of Music” in his future. Welles felt betrayed by Wise filming the re-shoots, and the two did not speak to each other for 40 years, only reconciling shortly before Welles’ death.
  • As Orson Welles started to get a reappraisal from the film world in the 1950s, so did “Magnificent Ambersons”, with some scholars even declaring it better than “Citizen Kane”. Although he always resented what RKO did to “Ambersons”, Welles eventually came around to accepting the final film, even tearing up when watching it on TV. In the early 1960s, Welles attempted to film an epilogue with the surviving cast, but the project fell through.
  • The deleted portions of “Magnificent Ambersons” have been declared the “holy grail” of lost film footage. All signs point to the scrapped footage being destroyed by RKO to free up space in their vaults, but rumors of a surviving rough cut in Brazil still persist. There have been multiple efforts over the decades to find the missing footage, and even a few attempts at recreating the lost footage using the film’s continuity script, but so far nothing has come up. I’m surprised there hasn’t been a #ReleaseTheWellesCut campaign, though I guess first there needs to be a #FindTheWellesCut campaign.
  • The closest we’ve ever gotten to the original cut of this film is a 2002 TV movie using Orson Welles’ original screenplay. Directed by “Like Water for Chocolate” helmer Alfonso Arau, this “Ambersons” still manage to deviate from both of its source materials and was quickly forgotten.
  • And finally: the only reference to “Magnificent Ambersons” in pop culture that I can think of off-hand is an episode of “Mystery Science Theater 3000” where Tom Servo convinces himself he’s watching “Ambersons” to get through the bad movie they’re riffing on. “I don’t even like ‘The Magnificent Ambersons’!” You and me both, Servo.

Further Viewing: This is not the first time “The Magnificent Ambersons” was adapted for film. 1925’s “Pampered Youth” was an earlier stab at a film version, and like Welles’ later incarnation, most of this film’s footage is lost. I’m beginning to think this book is cursed or something.

#668) The Augustas (1930s-1950s)

#668) The Augustas (1930s-1950s)

OR “Man About Towns”

Directed by Scott Nixon

Class of 2012

The Plot: Scott Nixon is an insurance salesman and amateur filmmaker hailing from Augusta, Georgia chronicling a specific element of his travels across America. Filmed over the course of 20 years, “The Augustas” is Nixon’s recording of over 30 towns across the country – all of them named Augusta. With quick peeks at various small towns and a wry sense of humor throughout, “The Augustas” goes beyond its gimmicky premise to become a window into an all-but-forgotten slice of American life.

Why It Matters: The NFR gives a rundown of Scott Nixon and the film, calling Nixon an “amateur auteur” that brings these cities “together under the umbrella of Americana.”

But Does It Really?: Man, the NFR loves their amatuer filmmakers. I enjoyed “The Augustas” as a fun, breezy travelogue; a vacation to both place and time. But what I found especially fascinating in my research were historians trying to find a deeper meaning to all of this; the subconscious connective threads Nixon is trying to show us by highlighting these Augustas. Here’s my hot take: Maybe the man just liked the name Augusta and was amused by how many other towns shared the name. I’m all for preserving someone’s art, but don’t overthink it, especially when it’s a hobby. I can give “The Augustas” a pass for NFR inclusion as a creative twist on the standard home movie, as well as recognition of someone spending their free time documenting a niche that makes them happy: something I can definitely relate to.

Everybody Gets One: As always, my thanks to the Center for Home Movies, especially an essay Heidi Rae Cooley which rounds up the little information that’s out there about Scott Nixon. As previously mentioned, Nixon was a traveling insurance salesman from Augusta, Georgia, and a member of the Amateur Cinema League (like fellow NFR artists Mary Marvin Breckinridge and Miriam Bennett). According to his son Cobbs Nixon, Scott was so fond of the name Augusta he wanted to name his daughter Augusta Georgia Nixon, but was talked out of it. Side note: Scott Nixon was of no relation to Richard Nixon, nor did he ever suspiciously delete any of his recordings to avoid criminal charges.

Title Track: During my viewing I began to wonder if all of these Augustas are named after the same person, but it turns out Augusta was a much more common name 300 years ago. Augusta, Georgia was named for Princess Augusta of Saxe-Gotha, the Princess of Wales who married Prince Frederick in 1736, the same year her Georigan namesake was established. Many of the other stateside Augustas are named after family members of their founders, typically their wife or daughter. Interestingly enough, Augusta, Illinois was named after Augusta, Georgia because co-founder Joel Catlin had a memorable trip there! Now we’re getting meta.

Other notes 

  • Right out of the gate, you know that Nixon has a creative side to him. The first shot of “The Augustas” is a silent movie-era intertitle reminding men not to smoke, spit, or use profane language during the feature. A good sign that this won’t be your ordinary vacation film.
  • My main takeaway is that in the early 20th century all Augustas were small towns, with the possible exception of Augusta, Maine; the state’s capital and the only Augusta I could have named before this viewing. So much of what Nixon chronicles in the Augustas are farms and main streets and local businesses. I suspect a modern remake wouldn’t be as quaint, and because most of these Augustas are on the east coast there would be far more Dunkin’ Donuts.
  • As technology changed over Nixon’s two-decade shoot, different types of film stock crop up in this movie: 8mm, 16mm, black-and-white, color. They appear somewhat randomly throughout, which makes for an exciting watch. I don’t know what kind of color film stock Nixon was using, but it’s beautiful to look at. There’s a vividness to the color, yet it still feels realistic. You get the sense that this is what these towns actually looked like. On a similar note: The back and forth between black-and-white and color is fun. It’s like if Dorothy took home movies of both Kansas and Oz.
  • A few of the Augustas on the list are represented either by an image of its spot on a map, or its name on a train schedule. I guess that counts. It’s like a placeholder shot; as if Nixon is saying “Take my word for it, I was there.”
  • Those train schedules lead me to believe that this was Nixon’s main mode of transportation. Some of these shots feel like Nixon got off the train, took a few shots of nearby buildings, and then hopped back on before his train left the station.
  • About halfway through, Nixon starts getting flexible with what counts as an “Augusta”. We get Fort Augusta, North Augusta, South Augusta, New Augusta, Augusta Springs, and Augusta County. My favorite is West Augusta, Virginia, followed somewhat confusingly by Augusta, West Virginia.
  • I imagine it was fun to watch this with Scott Nixon providing the color commentary. Obviously I did not know the man, but I bet he had a few well-crafted one-liners to toss off during a screening.
  • Scott Nixon saves the best Augusta for last: a shot of a hardy phlox augusta, seemingly a cross-breed of two different genera of flower. I’ll admit I didn’t get the joke on first viewing, but then again I’m not a plant person. I had to look up each individual word in the phrase “hardy phlox augusta”.

Legacy 

  • Scott Nixon continued making films for the rest of his life, including a few about his other passion: trains. When he died in 1980, his films were donated to the Augusta Museum before becoming part of the University of South Carolina’s Moving Image Research in 2000. “The Augustas” appears to be a favorite among historians and amateur film enthusiasts, receiving a restoration in 2008 thanks to Colorlab and a grant from the National Film Preservation Fund.

#667) Kid Auto Races at Venice (1914)

#667) Kid Auto Races at Venice (1914)

OR “Chaplin, Start Your Engines!”

Directed by Henry Lehrman

Written by Lehrman and Charles Chaplin

Class of 2020

The Plot: It’s race day at a junior soapbox car derby in Venice, Los Angeles. A director and cameraman (Henry Lehrman and Frank D. Williams – the film’s actual director and cameraman) are there to capture all the excitement. Well…at least they would be if it weren’t for a little tramp (Charlie Chaplin) that keeps walking in front of the camera and hogging the attention. That’s about it plot-wise, as the Tramp does his comic schtick in front of an increasingly frustrated director as the cars race by in the background. But in these brief moments of silliness we are witnessing the first film ever released to star Chaplin’s famous Tramp character.

Why It Matters: The NFR calls the film a “milestone in film history” and quotes a contemporary review in The Cinema which called this new guy Chaplin “a born screen comedian”.

But Does It Really?: The only thing surprising about “Kid Auto Races” being added to the NFR is that it didn’t make the cut until 2020. This one is a no-brainer: It’s Chaplin’s debut as the Tramp, and while nowhere near as funny or iconic as Chaplin’s later fare, it’s still the first, and that’s good enough for NFR induction.

Everybody Gets One: Henry Lehrman started off as an actor at Biograph Studios, where he met another young actor named Mack Sennett. When Sennett left Biograph to form Keystone Studios, Lehrman jumped ship as well, and started directing as well as acting. As evident from “Kid Auto Races”, Lehrman had zero regard for actors or their safety, earning him the nickname “Mr. Suicide” in the industry.

Wow, That’s Dated: I was gonna say soap box derbies, but research has proven me wrong. Turns out soap box derbies are still a thing, with the official one that started in 1934 still going strong, only skipping 2020 due to COVID. I can only assume that modern soapbox racing is far safer than the one depicted in “Kid Auto”, and probably with less actual soapboxes.

Other notes 

  • Before we go any further, an oversimplified biography of Charlie Chaplin and the origins of the Tramp. Born in England and growing up with an absentee father and institutionalized mother, Charles Spencer Chaplin started performing in his teen years, first as a singer and dancer, quickly pivoting to more comedic roles in burlesque and vaudeville. Finding success quickly, Chaplin signed with Fred Karno (the same music hall impresario who discovered Stan Laurel), and Chaplin found himself on a North American tour with Karno’s company. While in Los Angeles, Chaplin attracted the attention of Keystone Studios, who signed the young actor to appear in their comedy shorts. While preparing for his second Keystone short, “Mabel’s Strange Predicament”, Chaplin grabbed what he described as “contradictory” clothing (loose pants and a tight coat, etc.) and invented the character of the Tramp on the spot, proving an instant success with Mack Sennett. Chaplin reprised the role in his next assignment, “Kid Auto Races at Venice”, which was filmed a few days later, but released two days before “Mabel’s”, making “Kid Auto Races” the Tramp’s official introduction to the viewing public.
  • “Kid Auto Races” was filmed on January 11th, 1914 at an actual soap box derby race, the junior version of the Vanderbilt Cup being held that year in nearby Santa Monica. Allegedly the entire thing was shot in 45 minutes, with Chaplin and Lehrman improvising as they went along in a bit of guerilla filmmaking. I suspect everyone that isn’t Chaplin, Lehrman, or cameraman Frank D. Williams is an actual spectator, as noted by people constantly looking into the camera, as well as two women who are hiding their faces, presumably so as not to be seen on camera. Your loss, ladies.
  • Yeah, I don’t have a lot to say about the actual film, other than it did make me laugh a few times (Chaplin’s timing is already in fine form as he coordinates a few bits of business with the passing racers). I don’t think anyone could have guessed that the Tramp, depicted here as an annoying vagrant, would go on to star in some of the greatest movies ever made.

Legacy 

  • Unfortunately the most well-known thing about Henry Lehrman after “Kid Auto Races” is a personal tragedy. In the early 1920s, Lehrman was engaged to Virginia Rappe, the actress whose death in 1921 led to the heavily publicized trial and career downfall of Roscoe Arbuckle, who was accused of raping and murdering Rappe. Lehrman continued directing throughout the 1920s, but never successfully adapted to directing talkies, and his career quickly dried up.
  • But of course, this film’s legacy is and will always be the Tramp. For the next five years, Chaplin would rarely play anyone but the Tramp in his short films, fleshing the character out as the little guy who stands up to antagonistic authority figures, and making him an internationally acclaimed movie star. Starting with “The Kid” in 1921, Chaplin would play the Tramp (or a version of him) in seven features, retiring the character for good in 1940’s “The Great Dictator“. And now you know the rest of the story!

Bonus Clip: The origins of the Tramp, and the filming of “Mabel’s Strange Predicament” were recreated for Richard Attenborough’s “Chaplin” with Robert Downey Jr.

#666) Hell-bound Train (1930)

#666) Hell-bound Train (1930)

OR “The Little Devil That Could”

Directed & Written by James and Eloyce Gist

Class of 2021

I was able to track down the full movie at Kino Now.

The Plot: While many a preacher will simply tell you about fire and brimstone, the filmmaking couple of James and Eloyce Gist show you the wages of your sin with their film “Hell-bound Train”. Engineered by the Devil himself (Actor Unknown), this train speeds to its one-way destination with a separate car for every possible sin; from big ones like murder and infidelity to more questionable ones like jazz (both the listening of and dancing to). And the only way off this train is total devotion to the church with zero gray area or room for error. All aboard!

Why It Matters: The NFR calls this movie a “[s]urreal and mesmerizing allegorical film” and “an important and until recently overlooked milestone in Black cinema.”

But Does It Really?: Heavy-handed and preachy? Obviously. A natural for the NFR? Absolutely. “Hell-bound Train” has a lot going for it; a work by independent Black filmmakers, an amateur film brimming with creativity, and a time capsule of the religious scare tactics of the day (some of which are still in use). Even with the darker subject matter, you get the sense of a community coming together and having fun putting on a show. A yes for “Hell-bound Train” on the NFR, one of the more unique entries I’ve had the pleasure of covering for this blog.

Everybody Gets One: Unfortunately, there isn’t a lot of information out there about James and Eloyce Gist due to most of their records being destroyed in a house fire. What we do know is that James Gist was a traveling evangelical preacher, while Eloyce was a writer and beauty culture entrepreneur native to D.C. Although they practiced different religions (James was Christian, Eloyce was of the Bahá’í Faith), they agreed on the main bullet points such as morality and spirituality. From what other researchers have surmised, James had already filmed and completed “Hell-bound Train” when he and Eloyce met, though Eloyce appears to be responsible for re-writes and re-shoots of later versions of the film. The Gists would travel the country screening “Hell-bound Train” at churches; Eloyce providing live musical accompaniment, and James delivering a sermon after the film. And of course, a collection plate was passed around.

Wow That’s Dated: This whole movie has that early 20th century mentality where city living is an automatic sin.

Other notes

  • The version of “Hell-bound Train” you are watching is a reconstruction pieced together from different surviving prints of the film. As previously alluded to, there were multiple versions of “Hell-bound Train” over the years, some with different intertitles, alternate footage, or a restructured order of events. Shoutout to Steven Torriano Berry and Gloria Gibson for their early efforts to restore this film, which ultimately led to the version we have today.
  • From the start you know what kind of movie this is going to be once the Devil shows up, dressed in the Halloween costume version we associate with the Prince of Darkness. In fact, he’s dressed almost identically to the way I was in “Ghost Bros.” (A small point of pride: We filmed that in February 2020 and I’ve lost a considerable amount of weight since then).
  • The first car on our tour of this heck-bound train is reserved for the sin of dancing, which starts this movie off on a “Footloose” vibe. By the way, when is that making the NFR? Seems like the kind of ’80s popcorn movie they love throwing on the list.
  • This film posits that the dancing of the day is indecent, and I see what they mean; these kids are dancing way too close together. As one of my teachers said at my middle school dance, “Save room for Jesus!” (Odd considering I went to public school).
  • Every time – and I mean every single time – a sin is committed in this movie, there is an intertitle telling us that the Devil is rejoicing in this, followed by a shot of our Halloween Devil gleefully jumping up and down. Seriously, this would make a good drinking game. Speaking of…
  • Second car – Drunkenness. And among the sinners on this car are another sign of the times: Bootleggers!
  • When are they gonna get to the rich people cars at the front of the train?
  • I love all the shots of the train speeding by, clearly filmed as real trains happened to pass by the shooting location. There’s also a great shot where we follow the train, meaning the Gists are either driving alongside the train or filming on another train traveling in the same direction. Either way, it’s impressive.
  • Third car – Jazz! Oof that’s a rough one. What’s so bad about jazz? Is it because it was new? If the Gists really wanted to incorporate jazz, they would make this movie about the sins you don’t commit. 
  • The next car is reserved for “Thieves, Crooks, & Grafters”, which was a Cher song if I’m not mistaken. Also, did they mean “grifters”? I’ve heard of grafting, but I’ve never heard the term grafter.
  • Any vignette that doesn’t end with a character dying of their committed sin ends instead with them being arrested by the police (And don’t worry, the Devil rejoices in those too). A few of these sequences continue with our main sinners in prison, wearing the classic black-and-white striped uniforms and breaking rocks, two clichés that were phased out decades ago, but are still the cultural shorthand for prisoners.
  • Next up, Murderers & Gamblers. I’m enjoying the random pairing of these two, as if gambling always leads to murder, or vice versa.
  • I noticed there’s a lot of references to daughters in this film. Young women dancing are “someone’s daughter”, gamblers corrupting your daughter, etc. Know your audience, I guess.
  • Next car: Immorality. Oh come on, that’s just an umbrella term for everything covered so far. You’re not even trying anymore. This is also the segment in which a young girl emulates her parents’ behavior and smokes a cigarette! At first I was very concerned for this child’s health and well-being, but then I remembered it was the ’30s and that kid was probably already up to three packs a day.
  • This movie shows us at two separate points that close dancing leads immediately to having a baby. Those jump cuts do a lot of heavy lifting. After the second instance, this movie delivers an unexpected gut-punch: the near-death of a woman who takes “medicine to avoid becoming a mother”, which this movie declares is “murder IN COLD BLOOD”. I know the severe condemnation is intentional, but Jesus Q. Christ! It’s all fun and games until we bring up birth control.
  • The next car is “Backsliders, Hypocrites, [and] Used-to-Be Church Members”. By this movie’s logic, 99.9% of the world population has sinned. The Gists weren’t leaving your church until everyone in that room felt guilty for something.
  • Car number seven (although I think the filmmakers lost count at this point) is “Overcrowded with Liars”. [Insert Your Own Political Joke Here]
  • Among those liars are “false preachers”. You mean like Paul Robeson and Robert Mitchum? Were fake churches really that big a scam back in the day? Seems like quite a commitment to pull off successfully. And what’s a travelling evangelist like James Gist doing railing against preachers who come out of nowhere and take your money?
  • Also a sin: worshiping automobiles. I would argue that the greater sin is to make an incredibly boring counterculture movie about worshipping automobiles.
  • As we wrap things up with a guy dressed like the Grim Reaper welcoming the arriving train as it speeds into a tunnel, we get an amazing shot of a model train on fire, representing a trip to Hell. This is amateur filmmaking at its finest. “Hell-bound Train” could have been shorter, but that ending is worth the wait.

Legacy

  • James and Eloyce Gist followed up “Hell-bound Train” with another morality film: “Verdict Not Guilty” (um…spoiler). A third film – “Heaven Bound Travelers” – only exists in small excerpts and appears to have never been completed. Eloyce never made another film after James’ death in 1940, focusing instead on her writing. Following Eloyce’s death in 1974, the surviving elements of the Gist films were donated by their family to the Library of Congress. After the aforementioned efforts to reconstruct the film over the decades, “Hell-bound Train” received a digital restoration in 2016 when Kino Lorber released the film as part of their “Pioneers of African American Cinema” disc.
  • Almost every article I have read about “Hell-bound Train” was published post-2016, with a majority of them being written in the last two years since the film made the Registry. It’s exciting to think that this 93-year-old film’s cultural legacy is just beginning as movie lovers and historians discover it for the first time. And that’s the power of the NFR bump.